The Seasons are the Spice of Life

I know, I know…a poem about the seasons is so cliche it’s not even funny. I don’t care, there is still so much to be said about them. Anyways, every location experiences the seasons differently, and every person has a different perspective on each one. Sometimes a season will even do something extraordinary, offering a whole new set of ideas for writing about. That being said, I cast all four seasons as females, but again I don’t care what’s been done. This is my personal perspective, and a good exercise in finding something new to talk about in an overused subject. It exercises the creative thought process. It’s not like I’m writing “An Ode on a Grecian Urn” or anything. 


The Year in Four Characters

Winter is the two-fold time

Both cold and cozy, kind and cruel

Sharpening senses with crisp air

Brightest of the precious jewels

Awakening all the senses and dulling them

Just the same, she plays no favorites

Outside all is clear and white

During night or during day

Inside is a comforting hearth fire

From which to watch the waning moon

Bathing all in blue light and glitter


Spring is the awakening from the sleep

Dew falls every day and then

Showers come and wash all clean

Murmuring trees begin to bud

She dresses herself in the finest blooms

A tender time is she, beginning new

Green is all around, and fresh

Breezes blow and twirl the world

A dance of shadows and of light

Dappling the world in splendor

All becomes young and fair


Summer is the lazy one

The sister so carefree and warm

Blazing light is her gift to the world

The fields are dressed in gold and ripe

The longest days, softest nights

Humming time, filled with life

All the world is there to explore

This is an exquisite time

Trees and plants run wild now

Living, the only thing to do

All else can wait for a while


Autumn is the most mature

Harvest time, gathering

Everything counted up and stored

Against what’s coming back again

She is the richest in her colors

Cool and collected, hinting air

The wind holds a spicy tang

This is the time all want to hold

To keep forever in its glory

Deep rich reds, purest golds

Bonfire smoke on the wind


Each of these is mine to hold

To cherish and to always know

I remember them from long ago

And I will see them all anew


One thought on “The Seasons are the Spice of Life

  1. Pingback: Jumble Spoiler – 05/04/13 | Unclerave's Wordy Weblog

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